


Most Moved on But We Couldn't Let Go(So We Held Onto Each Other)

by urisarang



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: A soul for a soul, Angst with a Happy Ending, Chocolate Box Exchange, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fix-It of Sorts, Light Sexual Content, POV Alternating, Temporary Character Death, she gets better
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-12 12:15:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28760157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/urisarang/pseuds/urisarang
Summary: They couldn’t let go of their loss, neither one had ever been able to.  Inside her heart, she carried the weight of every one of her sisters lost to the red room, and Steve was no different.If Sam were still here he’d have told them both it wasn’t healthy and that they needed to move on--but he wasn’t there.  Would never be there again for either of them.Even years later neither the loss nor the pain faded.  They wouldn’t let it.  It gave them strength to keep going.  To keep hoping and trying.It was nearly five years to the day, after all the world had long since accepted their reality, when one Scott Lang--presumed dusted--showed up at their doorstep with a possible solution.  It felt too good to be true but the more he talked the more it started to make sense.  Natasha looked over to see Steve already looking at her.  The hope shining in his eyes--a reflection of her own.A possible light at the end of a long and dark tunnel--they would see this through.  So a plan was hatched, old comrades called upon, and bonds reforged for one singular purpose:  To get back those who were lost.They would not fail again, no matter the cost.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov
Comments: 3
Kudos: 46
Collections: Chocolate Box - Round 6





	Most Moved on But We Couldn't Let Go(So We Held Onto Each Other)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [flipflop_diva](https://archiveofourown.org/users/flipflop_diva/gifts).



> I have not written m/f since ancient times but I love these two very much and ever since Endgame the vague idea for this fic has been bouncing around my head--but seeing your request finally gave me the reason to write it. Tweaked it to fit more of your tastes as best I could--I do hope you enjoy it, and my humble offering for one of your OTPs 
> 
> This fic would be ridden with typos and mistakes if it were not for the wonderful [wolfish_willow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfish_willow)! I cannot thank her enough for the beta. <3

Natasha

  
  


Natasha wasn't exactly sure when it started. Was it during their team’s civil war where she had to pick a side? Or did she start feeling things for _him_ when he stuck by her side as they went after Barnes? Or did it begin earlier than that?

“Sarah in accounting is cute, you should ask her out. She’d probably say yes.” He had smiled at her then, a little sad.

“That’s why I ain’t asking.” 

At first it infuriated her to no end the lengths he went to just to avoid being set up. It was almost like he didn’t want to be happy. That he didn’t think he deserved it. That was a feeling she could understand all too well--but it wasn’t something a man like him should ever have to feel. It was for people like her, like Barnes--those who had a river of red so deep they could never wash themselves of it.

After all the shit that went down with The Accords Natasha gave setting him up a rest. They were too busy to worry about romance, even if she thought the big guy sure could use some right about then. So lost and alone with his best friend from the past choosing to be frozen again--and the new one he made in this time not speaking to him.

So it was a big surprise when one day after dropping Scarlet off to rendezvous with Vision that Steve bumped his shoulder into hers.

“So I know a guy, he’s pretty cute. If you asked him out, I know he’d say yes.” She raised one eyebrow at him, wondering what game he was playing at giving her a taste of her own medicine. But as she looked at him she had to stop because he couldn't--he couldn’t possibly mean--

But her red room trained eyes don’t lie. His body language, the open stance, a playful smile that was just a touch too nervous for this to be just a joke--

“Please tell me this isn’t why you turned down all those pretty women I was practically throwing at you.” He blushed with a shrug. “Oh you are just a big dummy aren’t you? Why didn’t you say anything? Why wait until now?”

“Wasn’t ready.” 

“Seemed ready to me.” He turned towards her more fully, taking one of her much smaller hands into his own.

“Not me--I was waiting for you.” It was not often Natasha was surprised--and she had never been struck speechless before, at least not until that very moment. His pretty blue eyes stared into her own and she could see the truth--the depth of his feelings shining through.

It hurt to look at, but she couldn’t turn away. He leaned down, their faces pressed close together hot air mingling. Blue eyes flick down to her red lips then back up again.

A question. A request--never a demand.

She answered by closing the last of the distance as she rose up on her tiptoes pressing their lips together. It wasn't the best kiss she’d had, not by a long shot. It wasn’t the worst either--it was close in terms of technique but once he relaxed into it?

It quickly became the best kiss she’d ever had. 

From far too young an age she was trained in the ways of pleasure and seduction. To call her skilled would be an understatement, but she was also taught how to control her reactions. To keep from losing herself to the pleasure, to her feelings, so she could do her job. Which made it all the more surprising when she just _let go_ and lived in the moment, in the feeling of being with someone who’s motivations were without question. 

With someone who truly, and deeply cared for her. Not who she was or what she could do--but her. 

When they broke apart she struggled to catch her breath, even more so when she opened her eyes to see him looking down at her. Tenderness, care, and an emotion she dared not give name to as he looked at her. It hurt to have him look at her like this, she felt vulnerable--seen. And yet she knew that there was no safer place for her than with this man.

And no place she would rather be.

That first night they spent together, it wasn’t perfect--far from it. He bumbled with inexperience and nerves and he didn’t seem to know what to do with himself. Heads bumped, elbows dug into skin while they were trying to get in sync with one another--their timing off. It took a while to find rhythm with one another, but once they stopped over thinking and just let go?

It was the single most passionate, and intimate act she had ever done. She’s had much better sex, multiple orgasims and everyone of her kinks done just right--

But it was never with someone she loved. Never with someone who loved her. Not Natalia, not the Black Widow, or the caricature of herself that she showed the world--but the real her underneath it all.

Blue eyes full of love and awe stared into her own, seeing her. Seeing all that she had done, all the mistakes she had yet to set right--and the mistakes she could never set right and what did he do? He loved her, not in spite of it--but because of it! Because of who she was, who she wanted to become.

In the afterglow as they lay naked in the sheets together she felt warm both inside and out with him at her side. She trailed her fingers along the perfectly smooth skin of his bicep. The skin baby soft, giving under her touch, a gentle layer over the steel of his muscles--not unlike the vulnerability he showed to her. 

They were both tough, strong survivors who had taken the worst life could throw at them and stayed standing--kept going. But with one another? In this peaceful bubble of time that they shared in this bed? 

They discarded the armor, leaving their vulnerable hearts out on display. Nat had always known, always seen the man behind the shield when she looked at Steve. But she didn’t know that he felt the same when he looked at her. If he would have said something back then--made any sort of move? She would have rejected him without a thought because at the time she didn’t believe there was any good left in her after what she had done. 

Sure, she was constantly _trying_ to be good but she never felt like she was. Never felt like it was something she was capable of being. Not like how the others were good. Not how Steve was.

But lying in Steve’s arms as he trailed kisses feather light along her shoulder, her neck and everywhere he could reach? She felt worthy of it. Of him. Of his love and affection. 

The other three rounds that night went much, _much_ better. Steve was nothing if not a determined and quick learner. She sighed in contentment the morning after--and his nearly non-existent refractory period? 

Oh yes, their sex life was going to be very good.

  
  


\-----

  
  


Unfortunately their luck soon ran out and their honeymoon period was cut far too short. An alien invasion, magic stones, and the hanging threat of their entire world turned to ash--they held each other close that first night, not making love, just holding onto each other.

It had been so long since she had something precious--something that brought fear into her heart when she thought of losing it. Of losing him.

They were heroes first and above all else. They would do what they had to, sacrifice everything to save the world. But she thought the world owed them one more night--maybe one last night to just be Nat and Steve. To be lovers.

They didn’t say a word--they didn’t have to. Everything worth saying had been said a hundred times before. Neither of them slept that night, choosing to waste not one moment of their time together, not when it could very well be their last.

The first rays of light peaked through the window breaking the comforting spell of darkness. Natasha, still tracing patterns into his back with her fingernails let out a sigh. 

It was time. 

Strong arms tightened around her, pressing their bodies impossibly close together before relaxing. Steve leaned up on his elbows from where he laid on top of her. He only moved back enough so that they could look each other in the eyes. 

Natasha reached out, trailing a slender finger along his jaw stopping to caress his lips. His lips parted as he sucked in an involuntary breath, earning a playful smile from her. Such soft, tender lips--and so skilled. How often had he brought her to climax with nothing more than his mouth? 

Her eyes grew dark with just the thought of them on her, something that did not go unnoticed by Steve. With a mechinveous twinkle in his eyes he turned his head and pressed a gentle kiss against the finger playing at his lips. He flicked a pink tongue out to taste, his motions as if he were tasting elsewhere. 

It sent heat pooling between her legs, making her shift in anticipation. He released her finger from his mouth, a positively filthy expression on his face. Even after all this time together it still drove her wild to see the effect she had on him. To see the normally wholesome man look at her with hunger and desire in his eyes.

“We can stand to be a little late,” he said as he moved in for a kiss that turned into two. He pulled back and trailed kisses down her throat making her breath catch and her chest rise. He moved down her body, worshiping along the way. Playfully kissing around her pert nipples, only just barely brushing along the edges causing her to squirm in the best of ways.

They didn’t have time for long drawn out foreplay so he moved down lower pressing his lips into her stomach causing her skin to break out in goosebumps. He gave her one last lingering kiss by her belly button before smirking and moving down between her spread legs.

They ended up a lot late and very obvious with their matching satisfied grins. No one called them on it but Sam gave them a knowing look of approval. 

It was the only good thing to happen that day.

They lost, badly. So many turned to dust in front of their very eyes--and millions-- _billions_ more lost around the globe. But none so heartbreaking as when she had to watch Steve kneeling on the ground with handfuls of dust in his hands and know that the last piece of his past? Of the life he had?

Was gone, and it was never coming back.

The rest of the day, the week went by as if in a haze. It didn’t feel real--the world was in shock and in mourning. How did one deal with so much loss--again? Something inside Steve changed that day--something broke and it wasn’t anything she could fix--not that she was capable of fixing anything while dealing with her own loss.

It could have torn them apart, but instead they clung even more tightly together. Maybe it wasn’t healthy, maybe they should have gone to therapy like most everyone else--but it was the only option for either of them.

They couldn’t let go of their loss, neither one had ever been able to. Inside her heart, she carried the weight of every one of her sisters lost to the red room, and Steve was no different. 

If Sam were still here he’d have told them both it wasn’t healthy and that they needed to move on--but he wasn’t there. Would never be there again for either of them.

Even years later neither the loss nor the pain faded. They wouldn’t let it. It gave them strength to keep going. To keep hoping and trying. 

It was nearly five years to the day, after all the world had long since accepted their reality, when one Scott Lang--presumed dusted--showed up at their doorstep with a possible solution. It felt too good to be true but the more he talked the more it started to make sense. Natasha looked over to see Steve already looking at her. The hope shining in his eyes--a reflection of her own.

A possible light at the end of a long and dark tunnel--they would see this through. No matter the cost. So a plan was hatched, old comrades called upon, bonds reforged for one singular purpose: To get back those who were lost.

They would not fail again, no matter the cost. 

They split into separate teams, each with their own assignments--all of them critical. Not one could be allowed to fail or the whole mission--all that they fought, bled and cried over would have been for nothing. All the sleepless nights spent in each other’s arms--but never alone. Haunted by the ghosts of their friends always close by, and forever disappointed.

They had a chance, a good chance to change that. Change everything, to get back what they lost--it was worth every sacrifice necessary to make it happen.

But all the same when the Red Skull joyfully let her and Clint in on the little secret about the soul stone--she was glad it was Cling with her, and not Steve. Neither of them could have let the other make the final play--it would have ended with both them at the bottom of the cliff and it would have been all for nothing.

So she was glad it was her, even as the rush of wind by her ears drowned out Clint’s anguished cries. She loved Clint like a brother she never had--but she knew he was strong enough to live through this. To watch her die.

It would be tough for Steve with her gone even without the guilt--but he would live. He was a survivor just like her. She could have gone on without him if he had been the one sent on this mission but she was selfish. She was glad she wouldn't have to outlive another person she cared for. Steve would have the rest of the team to watch out for him--Barnes would keep him afloat. 

The way she saw it? It wasn't a bad trade. A soul for a soul.

  
  


Steve

  
  


They get what they came for and make the return jump through time to the moment they first left. Everything should be exactly the same as it was before they left but there is someone missing when he looks around. Steve’s vision tunnels to the gap beside Clint.

“What happened?” That’s his voice, his words, but it feels like they are coming from somewhere else. From someone else, unrecognizable to his own ears. 

Clint turns his face up and looks Steve in the eyes. He looks so lost, so sorry, and so, so very guilty. Steve struggles to get air into his lungs, Clint’s jaw works, trying to open but with a grimace he just grinds his teeth together unable to say it. 

To say that he lost her.

There is a hand at Steve’s elbow--when had he lost his balance? He hadn’t even felt his knees hit the floor. The sound in the room is missing and he feels cold. Like a piece of his heart has been ripped out and it’s taken all the color and life from the room with it.

She’s gone.

He is no stranger to grief, and yet familiarity with the pain does nothing to ease it. Hands move to his shoulders, big, green hands. Steve looks up but Bruce’s face is blurry with unshed tears in the way. His mouth moves but Steve can’t hear him--

She was all that he had left in this world. His only tie. Without her he feels adrift. As if he could be blown away with the lightest of breezes. More hands touch him as one by one his team joins him on the floor and holds onto him. 

Bit by bit the world comes back into focus, their touches feel more real and the sounds come rushing back in. Heavy breathing, sniffling, and harsh panting--that one is his. He struggles to keep it together, but he can feel the warmth of life in their touches--but one is missing. He feels her absence like a knife between the ribs.

When he loses his hold over himself and the panting turns to sobs the hands on him just hold on tighter. He should be strong for his team, they have a job to do--an entire world to save, he can’t afford to break down now. 

He allows himself just one more minute to let go in the safety of his team’s arms before he shoves it down. Pushing all the hurt, the loss, and the bitter loneliness to the bottom of his heart.

At least she’ll have company there with Bucky. 

The team tries to get him to take some more time, but he refuses--just as Clint does. There will be time to be miserable later, all the time in the world--once they save it. Steve gives Clint a look. He can’t say the words, it’s too fresh, too raw--but he doesn’t blame Clint, he knows how much they meant to one another--as much as Bucky meant to Steve. There is not a doubt in Steve’s mind that if there was a way he could have saved her--he would have.

Clint doesn’t acknowledge it, but Steve never expected him to.

Bruce works to put the gauntlet together while everyone watches in silence. As the last stone slides into place the silence is heavy with anticipation. They don’t actually know if it will work--but then Bruce is sliding his hand into the glove and rainbow lightning arcs across his entire arm. He takes a moment to catch his breath before making eye contact with Steve and then snapping his fingers.

But when he reopens his eyes he looks at Steve so sad and lost. 

“I couldn’t bring her back. I tried, but--” He cuts himself off as his throat becomes tight. Of course it wouldn’t be that easy. 

A soul for a soul stone, a trade that could not be undone. 

Stark’s phone goes off with alerts of people coming back all across the world. Everyone but her. He’s glad--they succeeded in their mission, but he just wishes the cost wasn’t her.

They don’t get any time to celebrate before Thanos is blowing out their roof. A whole lot of chaos and backstabbing later they find themselves in yet another battle to keep the stones from the mad titan. But this time they have backup from a thousand worlds as Strange and his sorcerers open portals across the galaxy.

United in a desperate fight for survival, man, woman, and alien fight ferociously side by side to save their home. Their loved ones--and even through all that determination they almost lose.

Again.

But it seems to be a day steeped in sacrifice as Stark--Tony--steals away the gauntlet and snaps. It costs him his life, but they all swore a vow to see this through.

No matter the cost.

It is a time of mourning and celebration both. Not one soul in all the galaxy was untouched by the events of that day. Many were lost in battle, others lost when they were brought back and befell accidents--but none so keenly felt as those lost on his team. The world made a memorial for Tony, for all those that were lost but it felt so small and insignificant in comparison to the loss Steve feels.

For the gaping hole in his heart that he knows he will never be able to fill.

So when it comes time to return the stones he volunteers. No one questions it--of them all he has the least to lose if something should happen. He says his goodbyes to his team and pulls Sam in for a long hug.

“I missed you--I’m going to miss you.” Steve says into Sam’s neck, letting the other’s scent wash over him before pulling back. Sam is confused but Bucky spells it out for him. 

“Stevie ain’t coming back.” Bucky knows him too well, had seen it in his eyes. They had already said their goodbyes in private--Bucky understood it. He just can't be here without her. In this world they worked so hard to get back--it isn’t the same without her by his side. He’d return the stones and then use his suit to take him somewhere else--some other time he’s never been. 

Sam accepts the shield with reverence and sadness. Just as Steve was worthy of Mjolnir, Sam is worthy of the shield. He’ll make a great Captain. Steve’s lips curve into a smile just picturing it.

He takes one long, last look at his team, imprinting the memory in his mind before he activates the suit and goes about returning all the stones. It turns out to be a milk run, at least until it comes to the last.

The soul stone.

He has to return it just as it was taken--he will have to be here--have to see her the moment she died. It will break him--he already knows it will and yet the thought of seeing her one last time. If only for a moment frozen in time? It's worth it.

Heart heavy with longing and pain he waits at the bottom of the cliffs, his time travel controls at the ready. This would be the trickiest of the swaps--his timing has to be perfect. 

He can't hesitate or let his feelings get in the way. He has one shot at this--because if he misses his timing? He isn't sure he can try again.

Tick, tock the time passes unconcerned with his mortal woes. Unforgiving and harsh as he sees a tiny spec from up above.

Nat.

A thousand thoughts and a thousand more feelings rush through him, knocking him to his knees. He can’t breathe, can’t blink as he helplessly watches the spec grow larger and larger.

He can’t do this. He can’t watch this--

Hands move on the controls as he jumps with all his might, arms outstretched reaching for her. For his other half. 20 feet to impact he catches her in one arm, the other hitting the controls for his suit. In between tick and tock they disappear from that time line and land in another with a crash.

He takes the brunt of their combined weight and momentum as they slam into his couch--it doesn’t survive the impact but Steve could care less. The only thing in the whole world he cares about in this moment is in his arms--and glaring daggers at him.

  
  


Natasha

  
  


“What did you do?” she demands, angry.

“God Nat, it’s good to hear your voice again.” She pushes against his chest trying to put some distance between them but he won’t let her. Can’t let her go.

“What. Did. You. Do,” she demands once more, fury in her eyes.

“It’s not what you think--I swear.” She folds her arms across her chest, one perfect eyebrow raised as she waits to hear his explanation. “We did it, we brought everyone back--we beat Thanos and he’ll never be a problem again. We got everything back to how it was--everything but you.”

“Steve. . .” Her voice is soft, gentle, and sorry. “I had to Steve--you know that. No matter the cost.” He leans in and presses a kiss into the top of her hair.

“I know, we agreed. But what if it didn’t have to end that way? What if we could steal away a moment, just one? And live there?” 

“You’re not making any sense.” 

“It was something Strange said to me once, it was so specific and out of place that it stuck with me all these years later. ‘A moment to the universe can be a lifetime to a person--should they use their time wisely.’ I didn’t get it--not then but when I saw--” He cuts off, his throat closing around his words, the memory. 

Natasha pulls him in, pressing his face against her neck as she peppers kisses along his hairline. She had known it would be hard on him--how could it not? But she never thought she’d live to see the aftermath--the consequences of her death and how it would affect Steve. 

She runs her fingers through his hair as he shakes against her. She whispers sweet soothing things in Russian to him until he relaxes against her. He pulls his head back and looks into her eyes. She can see the grief that lives there even now--grief for her even though she’s right here with him. She did that to him, hurt him but there was no choice. 

And she would do it all over again, even seeing this now, without hesitation.

She leans in for a kiss, chaste at first than with growing passion as he makes a broken sound against her mouth. Desperate. He clings onto her just as she clings onto him. 

It is some time before they part. He stares at her, lips parted as he gasps in air. He’s so beautiful, she can’t help but think. Actual peak of human perfection, and he’s all hers. 

“Time is relative--” Steve begins, finally explaining himself, “that’s something Strange and Stark have both said. Just as we left on our missions and came back the same moment we left--we can do that too.

“We could live a whole life anywhere, anywhen else during that one moment I grabbed you before--before we have to go back.” He pulls her into a gentle kiss, hands held within his own much larger ones. “Please?”

Who could say no to that face, that voice? 

“And you swear to take me back when it’s time?” She will not have an entire timeline worth of red on her ledger.

“I swear Nat. When it’s time, we’ll go back together.” It makes her stomach flip to hear his sincerity. To hear that he would want--for them to be together in the end.

“Okay,” she agrees and his face breaks out into the biggest grin she has ever seen. He lets out a laugh and he twirls her around the room. It is infectious. She can’t help but let out a little laugh of her own.

“Where--when are we anyway?” she asks, but she suspects she knows the answer. He shrugs sheepishly.

“My old apartment, back during the war. It was the safest place I could think of at the time.” She turns her gaze around the room and its lack of creature comforts.

“You’re not attached to staying here are you?” she asks with a raised eyebrow, letting her opinion on the subject show clearly on her face.

“God no!” She laughs at his empathetic response. “If nothing more I’d miss the comfortable clothes that don’t itch constantly--I think I might actually lose it if I had to go back and stay.”

“Good.” She smiles up at him and messes with the controls on her wrist and then his. “What do you say about another jump into the future?”

“With you at my side?” He pulls her in against himself, brushing his hands along her sides. “Sounds swell.” 

Hand in hand they disappear with a blink of light, the sounds of their laughter in the now empty room the only sign that they were ever even there.


End file.
